


Closing time

by Entomancy



Series: The End [3]
Category: Yogscast
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entomancy/pseuds/Entomancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is basically the same versions of Minty and Lalna I’ve used in The End - and likely takes place not long after the last chapter of that - but it would apply equally well to being in aftermath of any Lalna-derived near-apocalypse; so to be honest, feel free to imagine anything you like. Nukes, runaway dinosaurs, nether plague, robot uprising…? </p><p>The proverbial chickens are coming home to roost. After hours at the Captive Creeper; which is entirely just a bar, and does no other business at all. Nope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closing time

The little umbrellas hadn't been a good idea. Minty carefully pried another embedded splinter of thin wood – trailing its own sad remnant of once-folded paper – out of the still-smoking dart board, and tossed it aside into the sand bucket with the sticks of its fellows. Not a good idea when added to _that_ cocktail, anyway. She would have to adjust the 'dangerously explosive when combined with cellulose' menu. Pity.

Still, it hadn't been as bad as the Swizzle Stick incident; and who wanted a boring life?

She climbed down from the chair she had been using as support, and made a quick mental note to get the dart board out of the rafters tomorrow. It had been a long day, and she –

Something clinked, in the recesses of one cupboard behind the long bar; an unremarkable sound, the shift of glassware not unexpected in such a building, but Minty glanced up sharply, her hand halfway to the bucket. Someone was coming. And not via the deliberately-rudimentary track road that lead off towards the establishment's nearest neighbours, either.

She lugged the bucket back into its easy-access beneath the bar, and her manicured fingers trailed, just for a moment, a little further along the shelf as she stepped aside, leaning towards the small sink and into the dead-spot between each pair of windows.

The back door swung open silently and a dark figure slid through, almost soundless as it turned towards the visibly-empty bar, and stopped. The hesitation crystallised as, with a faint _click_ of shifting metal, the sights of Minty's shotgun pressed lightly into the nape of the figure's neck. She gave it one heartbeat, then blew gently down the barrel , ruffling a few locks of straying blond hair.

"I'm afraid we're closed, Lalna," she said sweetly. "Should I post times on the back door too? It's an easy kinda mistake to make."

Her sudden guest half-made to move, but stopped at another slight twitch of cool steel against his spine, and raised his hands, slowly, either side. Bare hands, she noted, which was unusual in itself – but now she thought of it, seeing the scientist clad in anything other a lab coat or armour was practically unheard of. He wasn't even wearing goggles, just dull brown and faded black clothes that had a rumpled, long-disused air to them. He swallowed.

"I wasn't looking for… company." The last word had an air of careful selection, and Minty's eyes narrowed, slightly.

"Hence the incognito?" She didn't wait for an answer, and drew the gun back, readjusting the position to brace against her hip. "Grab a seat, please."

Lalna relaxed a little as he let his hands drop, giving her a sideglance look as he pulled out a bar stool. Minty smiled; she kept the distance between them as she moved back over to the long counter, sliding the shotgun back under the counter in a way that made quite clear both its hidden angle, and the thinness of the intervening panel.

"Hardly ever see you, these days," she continued, conversationally, as she pulled a couple of small glasses from their niches and set them neatly in front of Lalna's clasped hands. There was ink under his fingernails, but she didn't let her gaze linger, as she drew a squat, dark bottle out of another gloomy recess. Lalna shook his head.

"Not for me."

"That's not how this works, remember?" Minty tugged the lidded cork free and tipped a paired measure of amber liquid into the glasses. The faint scent of burning sugar trailed up into the air. Lalna was drumming his fingertips against his leg, occasionally glancing over at the nearest window, and she raised an eyebrow.

"Avoiding anyone in particular?"

"No." He hesitated, and a small, odd smile twitched his lips. "Actually, yes. I suppose."

"Keeping an eye on you, are they." It wasn't a question, as Minty closed a grip around her glass, but didn't move. Lalna shrugged and picked up his own tumbler, bringing it under his downcast gaze.

"They're worried. About me. For me. What I - " he stopped, his expression tight as he stared into the drink. Minty leaned forward, slightly, and clicked the rims.

"Makes sense." She waited, just for a moment, until the other glass had hit Lalna's lips, then knocked back her own measure, failing to suppress a giggle as he spluttered slightly, the pensive expression wiped off his face by aromatic shock as the drink burned an unforgiving trail down both throats.

"Bloody _hell_ – "

Minty grinned as she refilled the glasses, and tucked a thin curl of ever-escaping hair back behind her ear.

"It _has_ been a while. Not even brewing up that black-stuff anymore?"

"I've been busy. " Lalna hesitated, then gave a small, slightly bitter laugh. "Not being… busy. You know." He swirled the second measure around, glaring at it. Minty blew gently on her own, watching little patterns of density swirl on the surface. This was only going one way.

"So." She leaned back again, resting her elbows on the bar-top. "What do you want, Lalna? Creeping up on my door at this hour, when no one knows you're here."

Lalna's drumming fingers ceased, and he took a long, careful breath. When he looked up, finally catching her gaze, his expression was the dull curiosity of a man running a very deliberate kind of nonchalance.

"Wither skeletons." When she didn't blink, he continued. "Have you heard of them?"

Minty swirled her glass. She didn't break eye contact.

"I've heard a lot of things. Comes with the territory." She tapped the bar with one polished nail. Lalna's eyebrow twitched upward, holding and ignored, before he continued.

"Ever seen one?"

"Again. Lots of things." Minty tipped her glass again, and this time Lalna met it. As breath came back, he coughed slightly, and reached for the bottle himself.

"I want some. Whole ones."

One of Minty's own narrow brows arched.

"Alive?"

Lalna snorted and his hand shook slightly as he poured a less-exact measure, spilling a few drops of thick liquid onto the counter as he proffered the bottle back to her.

"Intact. Enough."

Minty refilled her glass and slid the bottle further out of his reach. She sipped it, slowly this time, looking hard at the scientist opposite. How many times had they done this? Weaving words over the counter, through the rising fog of whatever bloody-minded gutrot she had found close enough to hand. It was almost a game, with all its own rules, and she was going to break them.

"Why?"

She might as well have slapped him. Lalna blinked, setting his glass down so abruptly that more of the half-drunk liquor sloshed out, and gave her a look of pure disbelief.

"…since when do _you_ ask why?"

Minty smiled as she leaned back against a shelf and waved her free hand, idly.

"I'm just the bartender – " she ignored Lalna's commentary-snort at the words " – but you can see why someone might be a little wary. After… recent events." She held his affronted gaze, as his eyes narrowed slightly. "And the risk of contributing directly to any more unfortunate incidents."

Lalna scowled. He glared at her, then at the glass, and a flicker of something almost akin to worry danced in his eyes.

"I've… a few ideas. Nothing like that, though," he added. "Really."

"With _wither_ skeletons?"

"Yeah."

He didn't meet her eyes that time. Minty gave a small sigh, and her emptied drink clicked against the bar with glassy finality.

"No."

Lalna's jaw dropped.

"What?"

"No. Can't help you." She stood back and looked pointedly at the door. "Now, we _are_ closed, and I've got a lot of half-detonated dartboard to clear up."

"You're not – you're actually _serious_?" He was staring at her, and Minty felt the first flicker of unease at the sheer shock on his face. Surely he had thought this through? At least a _bit?_ She stepped back out from the bar, gesturing more firmly towards the exit.

"Go home, Lalna. Keep… not being busy," she said, carefully. "Let the dust settle a bit more, alright? I won't tell anyone you were here."

For a moment, he just sat there, staring into nothing, and she mentally mapped lunging distances – then he stood up, abrupt if a little wobbly now, and strode back towards the door. He was almost gone, his fingers hovering over the handle, when he stopped again, and she could see his shoulders moving with rough breaths.

"Lalna – " she started, warningly, but he cut her off.

"I could… I could fix things," he said, distantly, and half-glanced over his shoulder at her, an odd expression on his face. "I'm sure I – "

"Don't." Minty shook her head as she moved over, hesitating for half a heartbeat, before she settled one hand onto the scientist's peculiarly-attired shoulder. "Just give it time. That'll do it."

"And if it doesn't?" He turned, suddenly, then flinched as Minty's fingers adjusted themselves automatically through the thin fabric, and backed down. She looked at him, and felt the weight of all the meanings there swaying in the air around them like unseen pendulums, hairsbreath-close.

"Then do something else. But try it out first."

He sagged, nodding miserably, and Minty bit her lip as one of her current-held suspicions flickered warily at the side of her attention.

 _For old times' sake_.

"Just… one more thing. If I were you, right now – I'd be… wary. Of Sjin."

" _Sjin?_ " Lalna laughed – a short, unhappy sound that was almost mechanically empty – and dragged a hand through his hair. "He's about the only one who isn't treating me like I'm the harbinger of horrible doom, all of a sudden."

_All of a sudden?_

"I know." Minty let her hand slide down onto Lalna's forearm, and felt him wince slightly under her touch. "And I'd think about that, if I were you."

He seemed almost about to say something, then shopped, shook his head – and was gone. Minty closed the door behind the faintly-swaying figure, and snapped the bolt, hearing the _other_ locks click near-soundlessly into place. She leant back against the wall and let out a long breath, scraping her fingers back through her hair as she shoved it back into momentary-control.

Wither skeletons. She remembered _those,_ alright.

_I'm going to need a lot more than paper umbrellas for this one._


End file.
